


When we shed our Skins

by Tiefenrausch



Category: Original Work
Genre: Family Drama, Fantasy, M/M, Original Fiction, Regency Romance, Romance, Selkies, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:09:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29657349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiefenrausch/pseuds/Tiefenrausch
Summary: In a regency-age alternative reality, the united kingdom is not only home to humans, but has quite a population of werewolves and selkies as well. Both of them have earned title and land through their support in many a war and conflict. They tend to keep to themselves in terms of marital affairs, rarely having offspring with humans. And a connection between the two has never been heard of.Until now.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	When we shed our Skins

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try to do an original work as a writer after a loooo~oong hiatus, and to add to that english is not my first language. And all good things come in threes: Usually I tend to write adventure/sci-fi stuff, so color me surprised by myself for trying to write something so not related to my usual interests ^^' (blame Bridgerton for that).
> 
> Any and all historical innaccuracies are of course a voluntary break and explained with it being a fantasy novel and in no way happen because I am woefully inexperienced with the regency era itself (/end sarcasm).
> 
> I don't know how long the story will go and where it will take me, since I wanted to drag myself out of outlining hell where all the rest of my projects tend to suffer in limbo for the rest of eternity. So if you are interested, hop on along for the ride. I hope it will be a fun one.

The skies were dyed in a soothing navy blue, heralding the slowly emerging night, only disrupted by a deep reddish-orange in the west, where the sun had already made its way over the far edge of the horizon. The sea was particularly calm, only disrupted here and there by a gust of wind, caressing the now deeply dark mirror, by a gull breaking through the surface to hunt, and of course by the ship that forced its way through the waters, heading towards the harbour that beckoned in the distance.  
Nathaniel Grey stood on deck, his eyes of a color matching his surname transfixed on the landmass on the horizon. On the buildings that became at the very same time clearer in the outlines as they drew closer, and more muddled by the quickly intensifying shadows of the night. The wind played languidly with his black hair, loosely tied into a ponytail.  
"It is quite the scenery, no?", a voice behind him asked as company approached. "If I were a painter, it would probably inspire me to make something that I could use to impress the lasses down in London. Am I right, mylord?"  
Nathaniel scoffed, as the man, a sailor whom he made an acquaintance with during the trip, walked up right beside him to the railing. "Be happy that you make an honest living under his majesty instead of trying to appease the masses of bored rich people his court is composed of." His voice was rough, but his words were rather filled with care for the man rather than disdain for his fellow men and women of nobility.  
"Yes, mylord. I should probably consider myself lucky.", the sailor just said.  
Nathaniel was not sure if there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "You should get going. Soon we will reach London. And what would your crewmates do without your beautiful singing voice adding into the shanty?"  
The sailor just laughed and ran his hand through his ash blond hair. "Yes, I probably should, mylord. I will excuse myself."  
And as the young man walked quickly down the stairs to the main deck, Nathaniel could not help but turn around, catching a look of him. His mind wandered for a moment, but then he shook his head, smiling lightly. What a rapscallion, he thought. If he knew what was best, he would stop fraternising with passengers, or else he would someday burn his fingers. Badly. Not every gentleman was as fond of a commoner who was as brash and talkative as he was.  
But oh well. It wouldn't be his problem. Since he would leave just the ship in an hour or two. Setting foot on british ground, after almost two years of absence.  
His hand wandered down to the pocket of his coat, grasping the crumpled paper filled with words he was almost able to recite from memory.  
A letter from his oldest brother, informing him about the death of their father. Asking, no, ordering him to come home. And how could he deny him? Of course he couldn't.  
And so he was here, on this ship, on his way home. To the residence of his family out in the country.  
To his fathers funeral.

* * * 

The harsh shower of rain that began pouring down shortly after Nathaniel set foot on british soil was a brisk and uncomfortable reminder that, even though the city had welcomed summer weeks ago, it nevertheless had a tendency to be quite the cold and damp place after all.  
Still, the bad weather at least gave him the advantage of not having to contend as much with the horrid miasma that was so characteristic for London docks, as the thick mixture of pungent stenches was practically cleansed out of the air.  
He made haste, quickly exiting the crowded area of the jetty, leaving the crew to their own devices, when a man in the wardrobe of a high-ranking servant was asking for Nathaniel's attention.  
"Good sir, I am looking for Major Nathaniel Grey. By any chance, could this be you?"  
Nathaniel stopped right in his tracks. "Yes, that would be me. State your business."  
"Mylord.", the servant took a bow before him as he answered. "I was ordered by your brother, Viscount Grey, to welcome you back home and arrange a meeting with him posthaste."  
Nathaniel fought down the urge to grimace, which would give away his feelings about this course of events. His oldest brother had a tendency to be a bit overbearing when it came down to organize and plan family matters.  
"With all due respect, my plans consisted of renting a room for the night to recuperate from my voyage so far. And then, next thing in the morning, taking a carriage to the Grey estate. So be assured, my arrival will be in a timely fashion without any brash and precipitous actions."  
The servant bowed down again. "Mylord, I'm sorry, but there must be a mistake. Your brother, as well as most of the other respectable members of your family, currently reside in London to partake in this year's social season."  
That was the straw that broke the camels back, and the carefully constructed facial expression of Nathaniel. "Shouldn't my siblings be out at the estate, burying my father and grieving over the dead head of our family? Instead of partaking in all manner of social activities like there was nothing wrong?!?" There was almost a low growl emanating from the returning military officer.  
"I am very sorry, mylord. I can only relay the information that I have." The servant tried to keep his composure, but under closer observation, fear was very much visible between the cracks.  
Nathaniel of course noticed and tried to reel himself back in. His voice was still filled with anger as he quickly added: "Well, I suppose the best idea will be to follow my brothers wishes. Since I too have the utmost desire to have a talk with him now. If you would?"  
The servant quickly accepted this invitation to distract himself from the very uncomfortable conversation. "If you would follow me. I have prepared a carriage." He turned around and led him out of the seaside part of the docks.  
Nathaniel just followed him, lost in his quickly swirling, agitated cloud of thoughts, forging his anger into a cold dagger of resentment. He had hoped he would be able to use this most tragic of circumstances to rebuild the ties with his family. But it was obvious that this reunion would begin the same way as the fraying relationship between him and his brother ended when he decided to leave the country and fight in the war.  
But Nathaniel was no pushover. He would not back down. He would tell his brother what he thought about this frivolous and imperious behaviour. And if it would rip them apart even further?  
Well then. So be it.

* * *

The carriage stopped right in front of a stately home in the beating heart of London. Or rather, the heart of London's high society, far from the struggles of the common folk.  
Nathaniel stepped out into the rain that still poured down, but instead of quickly racing to the door to escape the rain, he stood there. Looking at the door in front of him. He had spent many summers in this house and he made lots of memories. Good ones. But also many fights. Mostly with his oldest brother. Mostly over trivial matters. It just seemed like they were not able to see eye to eye. And both of them were too stubborn to try to make amends.  
The voice of the servant pulled him out of his stupor. "Mylord, your brother is surely already waiting for you."  
Nathaniel just nodded and followed him to the front door and then into the warm and inviting entrance hall.  
"I will take care of your coat and announce you to the Viscount."  
Again, he just nodded, relinquishing his coat to the servant,  
who left through a hallway Nathaniel knew would lead to the study his father used to occupy. Of course his brother would have already taken over the room, since he now had to oversee the family's finances and day-to-day business.  
Instead of following the servant right away, which was what he had planned to ambush his brother, thus gaining an advantage in the oncoming conversation, he chose to stay back, taking his time and breathing in the familiar scents of the place. His displeasure about his brother was still there, but for now it had been dampened by the rush of nostalgia. By the feeling of returning to a safe place.  
Again, he was pulled right out of his cloud of memories by the sound of steps. Quick, but light ones. Hastily closing in to the entrance hall.  
He opened his eyes and saw two young, excitable pups chasing each other through another hallway but coming to a very abrupt stop, as they noticed the stranger in front of them. Both looked up to Nathaniel, one of them with a hint of recognition in his eyes, the other one clearly without.  
"Never thought I would be happy to see you two rascals running through the hallways. Let's hope you did not smash any antique on the way, hm?"  
Both of them quickly shook their heads, still silent, with a mixture of nervousness and poorly concealed drive to get back to playing.  
Nathaniel chuckled and waved with his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Come now, run off you little scamps. I have better to do than getting ogled like an exotic artifact in a museum. Go! Shh!"  
This broke the spell the two seemed to be under and without a moment of hesitation they began to dash up the stairs and quickly out of his sight. He could not help but smile, as he realized that he had quite missed them, even though they didn't really play a big role in his life before he had left the country.

Finally, the servant returned. "Mylord, Viscount Grey will now entertain you."  
Nathaniel straightened his posture and braced himself for the conversation. He would give his brother a piece of his mind and nothing could stop him from doing so.  
He entered the study and stepped into the cold, steel-blue gaze of his brother. Of the Viscount Grey, the new head of the family. Even though he sat behind the desk, even though Nathaniel had fought in a war, it felt like he was towering above him.  
"Nathaniel. Good to have you back." His voice did nothing to reinforce the meaning of the words he spoke. But he had never been a man who was eager of showing his emotions.  
"Hudson.", Nathaniel just said, it being the only thing he could get out without sounding like a croaking frog.  
"Please, take a seat." His brother gestured towards the chair in front of him, and Nathaniel obliged. "Do you drink?", he asked while the servant, always eager to please his master, had already reached the cabinet containing spirits and the glasses one would need to consume them.  
Nathaniel shook his head. He did drink, normally, but he felt like he would need a clear head in this situation.  
"As you wish.", Hudson answered without a trace of discontent, or any judgment whatsoever.  
The servant went on to serving the Viscount before retreating from the study. Silence filled the room for a few moments, as Hudson lifted up the glass, took a sip and then placed the glass back down.  
Nathaniel wanted to just ask his brother about his father, about the funeral, but he couldn't get a word out. It was like he was in total control of the situation, commandeering silence unless raising a question.  
"I'm quite pleased that you were able to make the trip back without much delay. I was worried, since in war times, mail often gets lost, people get hold back. Things like that." Hudson looked up from the glass, studying the face of his younger brother. But he was able to conceal the feelings he felt, thinking about being dragged back home by a leash in form of a letter, even though he still had things to do out there.  
"I am very glad about the letter reaching me, since it informed me about the death of our father. It would have been devastating for me not knowing about this in time." Nathaniel tried to keep calm. If he would throw out accusations, Hudson would just clamp shut and not give him any answer to his burning questions.  
"Oh yes. It is a shame. Father was quite sick, you know? But alas, now is not the time to dwell in the past."  
The younger brother took a deep breath. "If now is not the time, when is it? Father is freshly buried. One would say now is the best time to think about his life, and his death."  
"Maybe you are right. But that is not why I have you summoned here, dear brother." Hudson's voice had a slightly strained undertone, as if he was talking to a mere child that began to test his patience.  
"Is it not? You did not summon me back from the war so I can say goodbye to father and take my time, grieving about the loss of a dear member of our family?" The underlying rage in his voice was growing stronger with every moment.  
Hudson took another sip from his glass, this time with way less ceremony behind it. "No. In fact I did not. But you will have time to do so, of that you can be assured. In between your responsibilities as a member of this family of course."  
Nathaniel was inches away from jumping into his brothers face and clawing his eyes out. "And what... responsibilities are you talking about?"  
"It's simple. I want you to help this family become the best it can be. Father has always held us back with his traditions, his humbleness, the way he let Phoebe choose an author as her husband. Luckily, we have two more chances. But running the family business and finding good matches for our sisters is a bit more than I can handle right now. So you will help me out. We are your family after all."  
Nathaniel just stared at his brother. He wanted to interrupt his self-absorbed speech. He wanted to shout what he thought about him basically ignoring everything their father taught them less than a month after he had died. But he was stunned by the audacity of it all.  
When Hudson was finally finished with revealing his grand plan for the family, waiting silently for Nathaniel's answer, all he could do was stand up. And before the Viscount could react, a change took hold of the body of his brother. His whole form seemed to grow, to bulge out, becoming more muscular, more monstrous. The clothes on his body began to rip at the seams, as the body below grew in size and changed its shape. Dark fur quickly grew out of the skin, covering the body. And his face, having already been disfigured by rage, transformed into a snarling, growling muzzle of a pitch black wolf. No, not a wolf. The eyes still betrayed intelligence mixed into the aggression and instincts of a beast. He was a werwolf, standing tall on two legs, like a hybrid between man and animal.  
The creature climbed over the desk, swiping away papers and spilling a small ink-bottle. He grabbed his brother by the neck with his claws that drew blood, tainting the light skin and white shirt.  
But Hudson stayed calm. "Oh brother. You always had a fondness for melodrama, didn't you?" His voice sounded strained, because even if he was not scared, it was hard to sound disinterested when a clawed paw was wrapped around your neck. "You should really calm yourself. We both know, that you would lose, if a fight would break out. You may have experience as a fighter. But what kind of training could you have gotten, ripping mere humans to shreds?"  
Nathaniel hesitated. Of course, everything Hudson said could have been a bluff. The last time they had fought was years ago. But even then, he had lost every fight against his older brother.  
"Let me go, brother.", the Viscount said, it sounding like a weird combination of an order and a conciliatory plea.  
Nathaniel thought about it for a few seconds.  
And then he obliged.  
Not because he was scared of his brother. But because he realized, should he fight him now, he would probably burn all bridges with his family. And then he would not be able to protect his sisters from the apparently boundless ambition of his brother. They didn't deserve to suffer, just so he could act out and behave like someone outside dignified society. Even if Hudson really, really deserved it.  
"Wonderful. I knew you would come to your senses." Hudson fidgeted around with his shirt, even though the claws of his brother hat pretty much ruined it. He still stood there, in front of this towering beast that was looming over him. But everyone who would have entered the room could have seen it.  
Hudson was clearly the one in control here.


End file.
